Run Like Hell
by KungPowBacon
Summary: When the world is left in chaos and ruins, Audrey and Travis, a gay couple who bear with them a young, Asian girl named Fae, fight to make it. Banding together with others, they become crucial members in a group of motley survivors. Will their adversity be too much? Or will they find a way to survive? Post new chapters every so often. Possibly NSFW(I don't know yet).
1. Prologue

I tap the bottom of my foot against the carpeted floor. The tap is muffled against the fuzzy, resilient surface. Tap, tap, tap.

Rubbing the bottom of my laminate desk, I stare off into the distance. The skin on my fingers indent slightly at the edge of the plastic wood. A small slit on the side of the desk is pealing off. I flick it as my thumb runs off of the desk; my arm falling to my side. Reverbing at the tendant, my hand bounces up slightly, and swings momentarily before settling.

Blankly in front of me, a document is opened in front of my eyes. I don't even think about it, as I stare through it. Spaced out, nothing matters for hours, as it seems.

I raise my arm, and slam it onto the desk. It shutters under my arms cracking force. I yell loudly.

I pick up the phone instinctively, and dial 578-666-1421 as quickly as my fingers will move. The phone jumps to my ear, and I wait. Each ring blares into my eardrums, as I clutch the phone tightly to the side of my jawline.

"Baby pick up, oh my god. Pick up!" My voice trembles, I start shaking. Another folly ring.

My left hand moves across the side of desk quickly, I stare at the screen paralyzed. Dozens of bloodied, mutilated men and women devour a screaming woman. Her yellow dress stained in crimson blood. The look of terror in her eyes screams true pain. Unbearable and grotesque agony. Ring. I cringe.

"No, please. Du-don't le-".

"Baby? Is that you?" his soft voice answers the phone. I feel my skin crawl for just a moment. He sounds panicked.

"Oh my god, Trav, baby!" I exhale the pent-up energy, exasperated, "Where are you? Do you have Isabel with you?".

I hear a glint of release in his gasp, "Yes. She's here. We're in the van." I hear a car swerving and then a great thud.".

"Oh my god? Are you there?' I practically scream, the phone slamming against my jaw.

"After some mumbling, and what sounds like guttural growls, the phone connects to his face again, "Yes. It's really bad out here. We're two or three miles away. Meet you there… I love you." his voice is deep, and I hear the phone click off. Before I can do anything, I feel my hands spread around the box protecting the panic button. I unlatch the casing, and click the button rapidly.

"I love you too.".

Dazed, I wake up. Breathing heavily, I feel my heartbeat thump quickly. The dream spooks me, and I feel myself fall deeper into his arms. Warm and almost comfortable, I turn myself around, and face him.

He still sleeps, my body sweaty with his bodies intense warmth. Around our bodies, a thick blanket is wrapped around us tightly. I pull the blanket up, and curl my arms around him. His body shifts, so that I lay facing his body, which is no one his back.

Tenderly, I rub the hair on his arm.

In his arms, I feel safe.

Even though the circumstance. Tarp thick barriers, and on a cot. Anything could get to us. But he would never let anything get past him. I would never let anything get past him. I inhale slowly, and drift off in his warm embrace.


	2. Chapter 1

Bleed.

I rub the incision made across my elbow's rough, grimy skin. Blood smears on my arm, and clings around my hair. A bubble grows, and slides down my arm, leaving a stream of bright-red blood.

"Shit." biting my lip in pain. Examining my surroundings to find what I had cut myself on, I find a old car door destroyed, with a piece of shrapnel sticking out. Along the sharp end, my blood drips off slowly.

"Are you ok?" Travis turns to me, his handgun hanging limply in his hand, beard curving around his dimple creases. He never use to grow facial hair; I kind of like it. Wincing in pain, I wipe it away and step forward.

"I'm good.", smiling, I place my hand on his shoulder. Pacing up next to him, we continue forward.

"Ok. Be careful. I wouldn't want you hurt.", he speaks softly, but firmly. I laugh.

Then Fae grimacing in cynicism remarks, "Awe, you guys are so cute." I slap her shoulder playfully.

"Shut up." I turn my neck to look at her, sweat flows down the tension of my neck. Her skin glistens in the sun. Black hair greasy, and hung down her chest messily. Young and beautiful, she walks with finesse and grace.

The polished blade hangs in her smaller, more delicate hands. Still clean, she must have cleaned it recently.

Falsely pure. I mock myself for even having such a thought. Nothing as such can be pure. Through intention it is malicious: but necessary. Whether appearance says so, or not. A weapon's purpose is to maim and injure: to harm.

Her green tank top is mottled with blood and grime. It's barely recognizable as green anymore. Her jeans are faded, even more than they were before. Over her shoulders, hangs a back pack. It still looks fairly new. I'm not sure of its contents.

"Where are we meeting Tim and Alexxis?" she says, "We've been separated for too long."

"They said to meet them at the original café. They said it's been cleared out. I hope they're right." Travis looks back at me, glee in his eyes. "I don't want to sleep in these tents anymore.".

Stepping forward quickly, I look around. The suburban street is empty. Quiet.

Almost blissful, divided the circumstance. I relax, despite my hands tense grip around the handgun in my hand. I seem to always be shaking nowadays. Jittery as a bug. Its been so long since I haven't had to watch my shoulder; six or seven weeks I believe—I stopped counting after the first month.

"Andrea?" I hear Fae inquire behind me.

"Yes?" I respond. Peering around my shoulder slightly. She looks slightly confused, and a bit of sad.

"Do you think we'll ever find away out of this?" she says calmly, her eyes focused on the ground under us.

"I don't know." I stay truthful, but choose to avoid her hope. Travis looks at me, his eyes tell a story. A sad one. A scary one.

"But that doesn't mean we won't find a way through it." wittingly, he responds. I pick up pace. I hear Isabel do the same. Her feet clamor against the concrete. Loudly tapping. I recall the moment when everything happened. The tapping of my feet, and my fingers. The terror we faced that day.

Images flow through my head. Her body being torn from Travis's arms. Her screams of shrill horror and pain. Her eyes mimicking those of the women I watched on the television. Agony. Complete, absolute agony.

"Daddy!?" I can barely hear her words over the gnarling. The gnashing of those gory, broken teeth. Shaking my head, I shew the vision from my straining eyes.

Gravel crunches under my feet. Sliding around under the soles of my shoes. Step by step, I clutch my gun in my sweaty palm and wade with Travis and Fae to the other side of the empty lot. The sun beats down on me in waves.

Mounds evenly span the lot's ground. Formerly under construction, supplies are littered around. Nothing useful or practical at the moment. Clamps, construction tables, fencing, etc. Everything could serve a purpose, but not a currently needed one.

As we travel around the loping, dirt hills, the wind picks up. Gusting dirt into our faces; dampening our ability to hear over it. My body tense and nervous, I walk directly behind Fae, who stands between us. Gnashers begin to notice us, as we're walk through, in the open. The blade raises in Fae's hands, a some-what alert expression on her face.

Blinking in the blinding light, I adjust the grip on my gun, checking the grip, as it slides around in my sweat. Hitting the fence, in the distance, I hear gnashers beating at the chain-link fence.

Their dead, cold eyes staring at us as we fly through the field. Emotionless greed. I vault over a mound, my hands sliding over the top as my feet collide into the other side. My gun hung up over my head. I find myself balancing, and regrouping to continue through the field.

Fae follows me, and Travis slips between the mounds. I repeat the motion on the next mound, feeling the wind over my face. My hair blows back, out of my eyes.

Panicked, I swivel my head around to look behind myself. No one, yet I'm terrified to see what lies there. Startled by the slightest of scratching. Running like this makes me feel vulnerable.

Grime coats my wrist. Dirt spread and rubbed into the callous skin, as I make my way over the preset obstacles. I try to peer everywhere at once, but feel lost as I do so.

My khakis are browned and torn around the edges. My work shirt is untucked, and dirtied nearly as much as my pants. A belt holds my pants up, as I run through the field.

Travis keeps up next to me. His black short hair flails around wildly in the wind. Gun held to his waist, he runs three or four feet aside of me and Fae. Fae up directly behind us.

Nearing the end of the lot, we begin to slow down. A gnasher catches wind of our course, and he begins stumbling around the chain link fence. I pull up the handgun held tightly in my fist, and aim it directly at the sad-looking man.

Almost hesitating, I shudder as the hammer smashes into the back of the gun. An explosion follows directly after, and blood spatter around his chest. I pull the trigger again, and watch as the man bounces backwards.

Another miss again, I breathe in, and fire the gun. The bullet smashes his skull, and his body limps to the ground. The air in my lungs quickly leaves me, and I'm left breathless for a moment.

Three bullets, I take a mental note before we reach the end of the lot. I chuck the bag on my back over, and start climbing the chain-link fence. Hands clutching wires, as I push myself up and over. The holes hurt my fingers. Falling to the concrete, I steady myself and pick the bag up. Dirt rubbing off on the handle.

Low to the ground, I wait for Travis and Fae to follow. Fae stumbles as she does so, but makes it over. Then Travis flawlessly hops the fence.

Across the street, we see the café. My café. The windows are broken— but besides that, it seems to be just as had last left it.

I peer through the window, nothing visible inside but darkness. Snarling grows behind us, and I hear a quick, loud shot from the roof. One of the gnashers behind us falls to the ground: silenced.

My vision shoots to the roof, where Tim looks down at us. Alexxis stands next to him, a rifle in her hands. The gnashers start to pick up their pace. Now almost running toward us, they're stumbling is rambunctious.

Fae crawls in through the window, her knife in front of her body.

I follow her, vaulting through the familiar window frame. A vision of my old life passes through my thoughts. A normal day of me working; I use to manage this place.

Travis being last, kicks one of the gnashers in the shin. He points his gun at it, and fires at it a few times. Another shot from the roof goes off. Two walkers try to follow Travis through the window frame, but I pick my gun from my waist, aiming down the sights. I feel the gun knock back, as I breathe out and fire a round at the woman trying to grab Travis.

She falls limp, and the second gets caught up on her dead, already cold body. I turn my gun to him, he stares at us without any emotion. Just lust. I fire the gun, and watch as blood pours from his empty eye socket. My aim improves remarkably at this range—luckily.

I help Travis up off the ground, the woman ripped into his pant legs, but her nails never pierced skin. I hug him momentarily, and then watch as Tim and Alexxis seemingly hop off of the roof. Landing loudly.

They stare at us for a second before finally saying, "It's been a while.". It's been 3 weeks since I've seen my former coworkers. I laugh heartily.


End file.
